Keeper of the Eye (The Eye of the Sword Book 1) by Mark Shane Read Free Book Online Page A

Michael was born, he settled down and became a carpenter. Michael loved spending days with him in the shop learning the craft.
    Wiping the tears away, Michael stood and surveyed the field. It seemed so peaceful, how the grass swayed in the wind as the sun lazily set on the horizon. His eyes passed by the copse, an island of trees in an ocean of grass, and then he spied the eagle soaring overhead and another farther toward the horizon. He had seen a handful of eagles in his life, and they always left him in awe. He squinted at the one farther off not certain it was an eagle. Foolish thoughts of dragons danced in his head.
    His eyes fell on the copse of trees again. Standing at the edge of the trees stood a wolf staring at him with golden eyes. Its gray-black coat blended well with the darkening shadows of the copse. A few feet further back and it would have been invisible in the late afternoon shadows. Michael got the feeling it wanted to be seen. It was bloody unnerving. The wolf’s eyes seemed to bore into him, weighing him. A hundred paces suddenly felt like a short distance.
    Michael reached down for his bow but when he looked up a chill shot through his spine. The wolf was gone. He searched the area carefully, looking for grass parting, but there was none.
    He did not fear wolves like many people. Some considered them savage, always looking for an easy meal, of sheep or man. Others went further to say they were creations of the Soulless One. Michael was not one for superstition or given to tales meant to scare children, and some adults, into obedience. He went by what he saw, and wolves had earned his respect. The kind of respect one would have for fire. But the way this wolf had looked at him, like it knew him, and how it had vanished in the span of a breath was disturbing.
    Michael felt exposed. Something in the air felt wrong. Taking one last look at the gravestones, he made a promise to visit again soon and hurried toward his home in the distance.
     

C HAPTER 3
    House Calls
    Max and Falon followed the boy but often times trailed behind. His movements were erratic, disappearing around the next corner when he ran ahead only to reappear, making sure they were still following. Long shadows filled the town square where merchants and shopkeepers alike made their final sales of the day as the sun dipped behind the rooftops.
    Max stopped at one house where a lady was setting sweet cakes and bread on her windowsill to cool. Falon stood baffled, watching the boy run ahead while Max complimented the lady on her baking. Why did the man dally? Was it not clear by the boy’s behavior how badly the wounded men needed him?
    The lady glanced at Falon then smiled knowingly at Max. Despite the smile Max returned in kind to the lady, his face was painted with annoyance just as it had been with Benjamin, the innkeeper. She wondered what that was all about, but more importantly she wanted to know why Max thought now was a good time to be asking for honey cakes! She was about to ask as much when Max moved his hand over the cakes and that familiar sensation of magic prickling her skin. It was faint like a ripple caused by a small stone thrown into water. She must have missed it when he had done the same to the cup of tea he had given her.
    She hated what she was. She longed to possess a fraction of the power she felt emanating from Max. In the back of her mind, a voice mocked her. Y ou are cursed, despised, hated. You will never be one of them. The thought lingered like a bee sting till they reached the garrison.
     
    ***
     
    Impenetrable, gray, stone walls rising thirty feet and topped with crenelated parapets, the massive square structure overshadowed the town. Each corner was capped by a large circular tower with ballista mounted on its flat roof and two more towers along the wall bordering the river. Smaller, twin towers stood sentry over the gateway leading into town and another pair for the gateway leading across the river to